Page 6 of Gideon

“Do you want pancakes?” I asked.

“Yes, please,” she said.

I watched her talking through the window as I waited for our table. She would laugh and, at the same time, wipe her eyes dry. I couldn’t imagine the horror she went through living with that man—a man who killed his own son. I knew he would kill Laney the next time he set eyes on her.

I was on my way to our table when Laney stepped inside.

“Thank you. I loved talking to Haley; she sounded so happy. She hasn’t been happy since Jonah forced us to move in with him. I never let her out of my sight. He forbid me to share Haley’s room so I snuck in ther when he went to sleep.”

“She told me that he beats you?” I said, watching her.

“Yeah, that won’t happen again. The next time I see Jonah Reeves, I’ll have a gun,” she replied.

“You should stay away from him,” I cautioned.

“He won’t let us stay away from him,” she countered.

“That’s why you need to stay with me. He will never know where you are,” I suggested.

“I don’t know you; I can’t just move in with a stranger.”

“Sure you can, plus I’m gone most of the time,” I assured her.

“Why are you gone most of the time?”

“My work takes me away. I was on vacation when I saw Haley running. I have a cabin my grandfather left me. I go there to fish.”

“I love fishing,” she said with a sigh.

“Have you ever fished in the ocean?” I asked.

“Yes, I went deep sea fishing when I was sixteen. The boat captain let me go for free if I cleaned the boat. Believe me, I got the wrong deal on that one. Two people on the boat couldn’t stop vomiting. It was nasty.

“One was in the little cabin we had for sitting in, so you can imagine no one went down there. The other one locked herself in the bathroom. She wouldn’t unlock the door for anyone. I did catch some good fish.”

“What did you do with it?”

“I gave the fish to the people I stayed with, they were happy.”

“Why did you live with other people?”

“I was in the foster system since I was eight. These foster parents had a home in Florida; that’s where I went deep-sea fishing,” she explained.

“Eight, how many times were you moved to other homes?” he asked, frowning.

“Twenty-three times, I was sent to different homes. They didn’t like me because I would tell them when the foster daddy tried to touch me. I would even call the cops. The one thing my mom always told me was when someone tries to touch you, scream and never let anyone, man or woman, touch your privates.”

“What happened to your Mom?”

“She died from fentanyl poisoning. Her boyfriend claimed she didn't know she was taking it—she thought it was anxietymedication. I suspect he gave it to her. It left me alone, so I ended up in the system."

“What about your dad?”

“I don’t know if I even had one.”

I shook my head and told her some stuff about my life. “When I was nine months old, my mom dropped me off at my grandpa’s and never came back. I was better off with him.”

“Did your mom die?”

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